


Rose Dance

by saltandburnit



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Eventual Happy Ending, Fae & Fairies, M/M, Work In Progress, will update tags and relationships as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-01-08 14:44:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12256461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandburnit/pseuds/saltandburnit
Summary: The story of the Rose Dance is different depending on who tells it. Fairy folk speak of a pure, unadultered love. Of a human princess who danced with a fairy all through the night until her heart was fully theirs. And each time a new royal gets in line for the throne a fairy is sent to them in hopes that the reincarnations of the two lovers will find themselves together once more and finally come together beyond the fog.Humans tell a story of lust. A cautionary tale  of a fae who seduced the young princess then abandoned her until her frail heart could not take the heartbreak. Yet the faeries ever greedy as they were would continue to try and steal each prince and princess away from their home and into the fog.Some humans feared the faefolk, some never believed them to be real. The young prince Viktor on the other hand couldn't wait to meet the young fae that he had felt shadowing him his whole life.That is, until at the end of the most wonderful night, winter comes and he's left alone once again.





	1. Rumors Seduce Like Fire

**Author's Note:**

> me: I should consider making Viktor the supernatural one in one of these stories  
> also me: nah.
> 
> "Gifted" hasn't been abandoned. I'm really mad at it, but the plot has been fully outlined so I'm working on it with a lot more confidence than before! If you haven't checked it out already, do so~ (I love fantasy au's, okaay?)

_Let me tell you a story,_ said the Queen, stroking back strands of silky hair from her son’s young face. _There was once a princess, pretty as the sun, shining brightly upon all her people. And the light she would radiate attracted something… different, something dangerous, my light._

The child frowned at the darkness that took over his mother’s eyes. _But, Mama-_

She pressed a finger on the boy’s lips, signaling him to quiet down. His lips tugged into a soft smile, obedient. _Shush, baby. Let me continue._

_A fae came to seek her out, to take her with him…_

Humans tell a story of lust. A cautionary tale of a fae who seduced the young princess then abandoned her until her frail heart could not take the heartbreak. Yet the faeries ever greedy as they were would continue to try and steal each prince and princess away from their home and into the fog.

 

He settled in the strong arms of his sister, the embrace comfortable and warm in a way that only something so familiar could be. His mother sat next to him, carefully eying the flower crown her youngest was clumsily woving together, offered a correction here and there when needed.

 _You comfortable, squirt?_ his sister asked, a fond smile tugging ever so slightly at her lips, the emotion behind it clear to those who knew her best.

The little princeling squirmed in her arms. With cheeks as rosy as the poppy he was struggling to add to his piece, frowning when the petals proved too sensitive for his awkward motions, he looked up to his mother, chocolate brown eyes sparkling with an innocent desire. _Can you tell me a story, mama?_

 _Sure, dear,_ the fairy queen complied, only warmth in her gaze as it lingered on the small boy. _Which story?_

He blushed even harder at the question, his shy demeanor urging his eyes away. _You know the one…_

She chuckled softly at his embarrassment, but was quick to comply. She was starting to become really bad at denying him lately and she imagined it would only get worse from there.

 _There was once a fairy, known to love to dance and sing… And a human princess who would play with the sunlight between her fingers and laugh as sweetly as the birds’ chirping in the morning. The fairy heard the princess sing,_ said his mother’s gentle voice, a faraway look taking over her expression, even as she placed a hand on her son’s shoulder, a discreet touch of affection, _and the fairy knew they were meant to be._

Fairy folk speak of a pure, unadulterated love. Of a human princess who danced with a fairy all through the night until her heart was fully theirs. Alas the fairies cannot survive the harsh winter and the two lovers had to part until spring reunited them once more. But their reunion never came, for both perished during their time apart. And each time a new royal gets in line for the throne a fairy is sent to them in hopes that the reincarnations of the two lovers will find themselves together once more and finally come together beyond the fog.

 

Some humans feared the faefolk, some never believed them to be real.

The young prince Viktor on the other hand, had other ideas- in fact, the Crown Prince’s fascination with the rumored faerie folk was to the concern of many. But it wasn’t a wish to go against the rules or an inexplainable need to engage with the supernatural that had him looking forward to the day the myth would come to life. It was the little signs of something _special_ that had been following him for years. Things that were different and few, scattered, accidental glimpses of messy black hair, a figure watching him, a pretty voice.

 

* * *

 

He was fifteen the first time.

Or at least, that was the first time he was certain of it.

He was reading outside, just outside the palace gardens, a little ways away from the wall whose other side he _technically_ wasn’t allowed to see. It was quieter there however and people were less likely to find him and interrupt him, demanding his attention over things boring, typical, definitely not of his age but of his status. He didn’t sneak out often, but sometimes the need was too strong to ignore, if only just to read for a few hours.

The sun shone brightly above him, the warm rays gentle against his skin. With the birdsongs a lullaby to his ears, it wasn’t long until he slowly drifted into a peaceful sleep.

_Tug._

_Tug. Tug._

Viktor stirred, a satisfied whine escaping at the sensation of his hair being played with. The barely audible gasp that followed his movements however, confused him enough to force him into waking. His eyelashes flickered open, granting blue eyes the view of wide, sparkling brown staring down out him with just as much curiosity.

“ _Aquamarine_ ,” a foreign voice gasped, a hint of an accent twisting the word in unfamiliar ways.

He didn’t have much time to react, for the second the single uttered word left rosy lips, the uninvited guest sprinted away from him. As he ran back to the forest, as the rays of the sun fell over the figure dressed in an earthy green, Viktor could have sworn he saw him _blink_ out of existence, or maybe the sun was playing tricks on him. In the end it was the same; the figure was gone, leaving the young prince to stare after him, an odd combination of startled and deeply disappointed.

He would have thought he had dreamt the whole thing, had it not been for the way long silver strands of hair were pulled neatly away from his face. Still shaking a little from the sudden scare, he lifted his hands to gingerly brush against his hair, only to find soft petals woven in between.

What sounded almost like a shriek escaped his lips at the touch and he rushed, rather undignified, back to the castle, even if he was never supposed to be out in the first place and perhaps should be a little more careful sneaking back in. Ignoring the calls and protests from various guards and helpers, Viktor bolted to the nearest bathroom to admire the handiwork for himself in the mirror.

A grin trembled its way into his face, breaking into a full heart shape within seconds as he let his eyes roam over the gorgeous braid that had been made of his wild hair, each tug and fold of it adorned with little flowers, giving color to the pale tufts.

The sound of a _woof_ next to him caught his attention and he turned to share his joy with his wonderful companion.

“Makka, did you see-”

He was cut off however, by a wave of uncontrollable laughter, full of a mirth he usually found hard to gain trapped inside the cold walls of the palace.

His beloved dog, Makkachin, was currently sporting a beautiful little flower crown of purple and red with just a few spots of white.

Viktor sighed his contentment away. “ _Ah,_ what an amazing gift, Makkachin~”

 

* * *

 

It took him years to receive clear proof of the mysterious figure’s existence again. There had been signs, little things out of place, little gifts left here and there, but for all the poppies and the green carnations left at his windowsill, or gingerly placed into Makka’s fur, the only proof he held of that magical meeting ever happening was the one rose he had saved from his braid, now hidden away with care between the pages of his favorite book. And late at night, when no one would come in and catch him in the act, he would open it to his favorite passage and stare at the dried reminder of a world waiting just outside his reach. A world he wished with all of his aching heart to catch a glimpse of once again.

Belated though it may have been, his desire came true once more, two years later. On his seventeenth birthday, Viktor returned to his room, utterly exhausted of the day’s events. A ball held in his name, to celebrate the Crown Prince’s birthday, where very few people knew him, much less were genuinely friendly with him, yet he still had to be polite and smile his perfect smile and pretend he was happy to meet these strangers.

He returned to his chambers feeling decidedly less overjoyed as a birthday boy ought to be and more hollow inside than any other normal day he was forced to socialize with people whose apathy broke even through his defense of utter obliviousness. But there, placed neatly on top of his bed was the sign he had been waiting for this entire time.

A little wooden box, carved patterns of flowers and birds adorning it, begged for his attention. He didn’t get excited at first; he wouldn’t allow himself to get hopeful this soon and merely assumed a guest or perhaps an important family member had requested their gift to be delivered straight to him.

Viktor jumped on the bed, the need to protect his expensive clothes non applicable after the day he had and took the unexpected gift in his hands, turning it over to examine, before gently prying open the lid. A voice of two years past returned to the front of his mind as he gasped, eyes blown to twice their size and picked the thin rope from the box, holding it so tenderly as though it would shatter in his hands. From the end of it a stone was hung, held together by intricate knots that still failed to take away from the beautiful blues and greens intertwining playfully.  _Aquamarine,_ the figure had whispered. Only now did Viktor realize they were talking about his _eyes._

The prince slipped the necklace around his neck, his chest swelling with a kind of happiness he needed that night. And it wasn’t the gift that was special, but the fact that the figure was _real_ and he remembered him and he went out of his way to make his birthday special and-

His fingers wrapped around the cool stone, squeezed it tightly against his heart, while he took a deep breath to halt his overwhelming emotions. A flash of inspiration had him rushing to the window (open, of _course_ it was open, he should have known). Looking outside into the night, the ethereal white light of the moon the only thing illuminating the forest over outside the walls. And yet, if the box had ended up here, it meant that someone had delivered it. And with a little luck, that someone would still be here…

“ _Thank you_!” Viktor called out into the night, letting the chilly breeze carry his words away. The first snow seemed to be coming soon, impressively late this year.

And in the stillness of the night, a breathless giggle barely reached his ears, before it disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day they broke his heart.

The giddy aura of last night had refused to part with him even as the first rays of the sun against his skin coaxed him awake for a new day. Dressed in robes of white and blue to match the stone adorning his neck with pride, silver locks falling down his back, pulled back into a loose braid, Viktor all but skipped his way to the study for his lessons.

His daily rhythm was hard to settle into, with his blood pumping with excitement at the prospect of seeing his mysterious friend again. In spite of the two year disappearance, Viktor was certain he was going to find him again; he’d work hard to find a way.

It was during Madame Lilia’s etiquette lessons that all his plans fell apart and the meeting he had wished for since that day in the sun was taken from him as suddenly as the desire had come.

Yakov, his supervisor and unwilling, unofficial guardian waited for him outside the door, greeted him with a curt nod, before opening the door to where Madame Lilia awaited to give him this morning’s lesson. It was bound to be a tense one, for the two adults never did seem to get along.

He was prepared for tension. What he couldn’t have guessed however was the frosty glare directed his way, the second Lilia took a good look at his beloved stone.

“What is _that_?” She asked, a thin delicate finger pointed accusatory at his gift.

Viktor tried to keep the smile on his face, despite the sudden fear causing his heart to hammer against his chest. A terrible feeling had settled in his gut, warning him of the impending disaster.

In quick, short strides the Madame had crossed the room to approach him, the sound of her heels against the marble ominous to his ears. _Clack clack clack. A glare dead set on something he had come to adore._

“May I, your Highness?” she asked, the courtesy forced. Even though he still reserved the right to refuse, Viktor figured he didn’t want to deal with the consequences if he did. With his permission, Lilia reached for the stone yet refrained from touching it, a hair’s width away from brushing her fingertips over the cold surface. The scowl that appeared plastered permanently on her face deepened, before she shifted her gaze to meet with Yakov’s.

“This is a fae’s work.”

Viktor froze mid-breath at the revelation, his lips parted in a silent gasp. He had suspected as much; a figure that ran off to the forest, disappearing under the light of the sun, always hiding. But he hadn’t dared voice any of it, not when his family- not when a prince-

 _“Wha_ t?” Yakov growled. With one abrupt motion that stopped the young prince’s heart he reached for the offending item. A second before overstepping his boundaries, he got a hold of himself despite his anger, clenched his fingers into a fist instead.

“Hold on!” Viktor took a step _back_ , alarmed at the sting of tears he would not be allowed to shed. He hadn’t meant to make Yakov mad. “It’s not that big of an issue, truly!”

“ _Where_ did you get this, your Highness?” Lilia asked, a little more respectful but just as unsympathetic.

Viktor looked from one to the other, the feeling in his gut piercing harder. They were going to take it away, weren’t they? He wasn’t allowed to have it, was he?

“It was a gift- I found it in my room-”

It took him half a second to realize it was the wrong thing to say.

“A _faerie_ was in your _room_?” Yakov barked and Viktor fought back the urge to flinch at the harsh tone. “What have I told you about faeries, Viktor?”

“That they’re not real!” he retorted, raising his voice in a manner rather undignified for a seventeen-year-old prince, but Yakov, in his concern, wasn’t exactly following protocol either.

“But if they _were?_ ”

He lowered his head, blinking rapidly to halt the tears. He wanted to sob. He hated that he wasn’t allowed to. “That I should never _ever_ get in touch with them.” Sadness built up inside of him, turning his fear into fighting instinct, forcing the protest to be voiced before he could think it through. “But Yakov, they’re really _nice!_ ”

At times like this one however, he truly needed to stop talking.

“Have you… have you _met_ the fae?”

Viktor paled. “Just- just once, Yakov, I promise. I only saw them once for half a second!”

Yakov’s face twitched and the boy watched, alarmed, as he shifted between ten different shades of red in front of him. If Yakov had a heart attack because of his behavior, would it be considered murder? When the man asked for the stone however, the worry dissipated for the sake of stubbornness somehow both in character and entirely unfitting of a prince.

 _“Your Highness!_ ” His guardian all but snapped, looking one second away from forcefully removing the pendant from his neck. “Have you no sense? All the stories we told you! You are not to get anywhere _near_ the faeries!”

“But, Yakov-”

“If not for yourself, your _Highness_ , then do it for the creature you seem to be so fond of.”

Viktor looked on, not reacting, as Yakov took advantage of his sudden stillness to gently tug the necklace away from him. Matching eyes stared at the aquamarine dangling from the string, swinging back and forth like a pendulum. He thought of warm brown, a gasp, a giggle. How did those memories suddenly make him feel so cold? With all the fight inside of him depleted, his lips parted, but he could not speak, already knowing what was about to come.

“That story didn’t end well for either party, young prince. Stay away from the woods.”

They had the decency to dismiss him, no doubt mindful of his fragile emotions- they could now that the stone was gone. And he walked back to his rooms, feeling an odd numbness take over his limbs, making it hard to move forward.

In the privacy of his room, by himself at last, _again and always,_ Viktor took his favorite book in his arms, just to open to the page where the dried rose awaited him. Only then did he let the tears drop, staining the page, ruining the texture of the flower, the memento he shouldn’t be allowed to keep.

_“You’re still going to come, won’t you? That’s your job… right?”_

 

* * *

 

 

In ten years he had almost forgotten. You’re not allowed to remember the faeries for long and perhaps that was the reason why no one could recall the fae that stole the princess the first time, only that she was gone from them. The young Prince had grown, molded and prepared to be King. Delicate long braids replaced for an elegant short cut, silver bangs obscuring his eyes from the world. At twenty-seven years old Viktor appeared to those who didn’t know him, a number that seemed to only be increasing, as the perfect image of royalty. Cold, untouchable, yet absolutely ethereal in his beauty.

The jog in his memory came at the start of December, the day before the first snowfall.

“With all due respect, please be careful if you wander outside alone, your Highness,” called a guard, as he stepped outside. A dark cloak hid his upper body, casting dark shadows over his features.

“I think I can handle myself for a short while, thank you.”

The guards of the back gates would often expressed their concerns when he sneaked out- or rather, stepped outside for just a moment, he was too old to be sneaking out now, wasn’t he?- but eventually got used to their prince’s need for a breath of fresh air every now and then. They wouldn’t understand how suffocating the castle walls could get after twenty seven years. Even so, Viktor was a hard person to refuse.

He slipped through familiar alleyways and side streets that hadn’t been properly used for years, the path to his destination imprinted in his mind after years of yearning for that place when he wasn’t supposed to. His stride was quick yet proud, a wave of loneliness weighing him down without his beloved companion at his side. In this kingdom, Makkachin was far too recognizable by this point for them both to be able to escape the attention, even if he made sure the streets he used where all but deserted at this time day, where twilight met the night, the last tendrils of the sun visible in the horizon even with the moon greeting them, already hung high in the ever darkening sky.

Finally he reached the outer walls, felt the cold stone brush against his fingertips. He hadn’t been out in years, merely stood there, strolled around the edge, full circle and back to the castle. It was calming seeing the entirety of the capital like this. In the stillness of the night, the dreary vastness of it could be stressful but it sparked a sense of purpose in the young Prince, who had struggled for years to come to terms with the fate he held no power over.

This time however- this time was… odd. He felt it when he touched the walls, something buzzing, vibrant, _alive_ on the other side.

And then came the singing. Dripping like thick honey and just as sweet, echoing with a power hidden, yet threatening to destroy him if it ever broke free. Tender affection intertwined with soulful desire.

_“Sic mea vita est temporaria…”_

Viktor gasped, his heart trembling with foreign emotion.

He searched the perimeter of the wall for that one gap he always used as a child, praying he hadn’t gotten too big for it- There! With shaking hands he pushed back the loose stones, opened a gap barely large enough for a person to fit in. He frowned at it, his chest tight with fear that he wouldn’t make it outside in time, the song would cease, the voice would leave- No, no, he needed to _see-_

Ignoring any sense of dignity he would normally try to maintain, the Crown Prince of the country fell down on all fours and crawled outside a comically small hole to get outside his own capital’s borders. With a lot of struggle he squirmed his way to the outside, jumped up the second his feet were halfway out the hole and ran towards the sound.

What greeted him was a pair of rich brown eyes, sparkling under the light of the moon now at full peak. And dear heart, did the white light suit him perfectly.

The fae boy from his dreams, the one who loved making flower crowns and gifted beautiful stones because they matched the color of his eyes was finally in front of him, in his full glory. Sitting underneath the large oak tree, at the edge of the forest, his gaze still away from the prince, turned towards the shining moon, a gentle tug on his lips brightening his soft features. Ink black hair fell in mussed tufts around his face, matching the deep black of his outfit, adorned by a series of silver white crystals.

The intimate song came to a close, the voice singing so lovingly trailing off with fondness etched in the last note. The fae lowered his gaze as he finished, eyes on his lap, the smile still there, small but certain.

Viktor took a step closer, putting on a confident front, even if he still couldn’t calm down his own heartbeat, his breathing steady only by force.

“Was that for me?” he questioned, voice smooth as silk. He was grateful it wasn’t shaking as bad as the hands he had wriggled behind his back.

The fae jumped two feet in the air at the sudden voice,  hid behind the tree he was resting against the second he landed. Okay, perhaps he truly hadn’t noticed his presence. However, a head peeked with hesitance from behind, wide eyes staring at him with open curiosity.

“F-For you, your… Majesty?” He spoke and Viktor felt the excitement rush in his veins at the peculiar accent that turned over his words- accent unlike anything else in the human world.

The prince smirked at the call of his title. “So you _do_ know who I am.” To that, the fae didn’t respond, merely looked down again, a bright red tint rising to his cheeks. “I thought you were meant to dance. Isn’t that how the story goes?”

“I-I do dance. Sometimes.” His words were careful, almost stilted, as though he was struggling to properly express himself. “But you are mistaken. I did not mean to lure you. I do not intend to take you away.”

While Viktor himself had no _intention_ of running away into the fog with the young fae, the blatant rejection from the other had his smile faltering, replaced by a slight crease between his brows.

He grasped the change in demeanor with impressive speed all things considered. “No, _no!_ Do not misunderstand!” A glimpse of his hands could be seen from behind his hiding spot as he flailed his arms in his panic to redeem himself. “I just do-do not wish to take you away from your loved ones.”

He bit his lip, a deep frown tarnishing his own features now. With hesitant steps he approached the prince. One, two, three strides- scared, yet steady. An elegant turn of his arm as he extended it towards him, called him towards his offered hand.

“E-Even so- Would you… Would you like to _dance_ with me?”

The smile that shone on his face was shaped after his overwhelmed heart. _“I’d love to.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pheww.. So that was the first part! Next chapter we get to see most of these scenes from Yuuri's perspective, before we move on to the main plot!  
> (Notes: The fae/fairy spelling is not a typo and/or carelessness on my part!)  
> If you liked it, please consider leaving a comment here! Reception is kind of important for the first chapter ^^;


	2. Like A Dream Comes Saving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hey! I... didn't expect to update this story to be honest. Due to real life responsibilities, combined with the lack of interest here, I figured I was better off updating my other stuff? I'm not sure what's going to happen to this story from now on, but have chapter two anyway... Hope you like it.
> 
> (Come yell at me on tumblr at saltfics. tumblr. com !)

 

“Okay, but get this: Layers.”

“No.”

“ _Layers._ ”

“No.”

“It’s the perfect solution!”

“To some other problem, I’m sure.”

His friend crossed his arms in front of him, his expression the perfect picture of confidence in his own suggestion. He wondered what a conviction like that would feel like, flooding your chest to make you stand taller. Phichit had said his piece, all that was left was for Yuuri to agree to it. And just in case he needed a soft nudge in the right direction, there was just one more thing he could use…

“Well, you want to deliver it, don’t you?”

If he had it in him to hold a grudge, he might have. For close-captioning his problem in a way that made it sound as though his suggestion was the only logical conclusion. 

Sparkling brown eyes fell to the object held with an almost reverence in his hands, the gorgeous stone reminiscent of those enchanting eyes, wrapped with care in thick cord by yours truly. His hard work would go to waste if he didn’t deliver the gift soon.

“It’s cold…”

“Layers!”

Yuuri let out a long suffering sigh and accepted the fate laid out before him. “What did you have in mind?”

 

* * *

 

Katsuki Yuuri was never supposed to be the fairy selected for the coming of the Rose Dance myth. Romantic as fairy tales often were, ultimately the task presented was dangerous and under no circumstances should someone like him have been allowed to partake in it. As most of these tales go however, young, innocent princes never quite do as told. Second Prince Yuuri of the Fairies of the Spring Court was raised protected in the warmth his kingdom provided, yet always loved to play too close to the wall.

The human prince that liked to break the rules just as much didn’t help cease that habit.

 

* * *

 

“We really shouldn’t be straying so far…”

A shivering mess of a young prince held on to his friend as they walked further and further away, towards the edges of the forest. Her dress, all fine spider silk and rose petals, suffered in his tight grip, yet she wouldn’t complain, the mischievous smile playing on her lips betraying a cause worthy of the sacrifice.

Yuuko reached for the hand holding on to her back and took it in hers, the gesture bringing a rosy tint to his cheeks and for a little while, his embarrassment could overwhelm his fear, quiet him down. Tugging at the hem of his shirt to excuse himself and look away, he let the girl guide him to this odd surprise she had promised him. If he paused to consider the sheer amount of scolding his sister would give him, and Mari looked like a real Queen when she was berating him- a very angry one at that-, Yuuri hoped it was something life changing.

Little did the princeling know how strong a hope like that could be.

With a soft gasp he halted, when he saw the first light of the sun peek through the trees, the light pure, brighter than the one upon them, which was always filtered through the thick foliage. And he could tell they had reached the end, so every story and every warning they had told him, of cold and humans and things he couldn’t yet understand and _never, my love, never step out alone, never without reason_ , froze him on the spot, had him shaking his head in frantic motions.

“Yuuri, come on!” Yuuko tugged at his hand, tilting her head with a small frown once she realised what the issue was. “Just a sneak peek, it’ll be fine. I want to show you something.” When he continued to shake his head, his body otherwise still and unmoving, she let go of him and skipped over the last few of the trees, looked out to the clearing.

“Yuuri!” she squealed, body half bent forwards in an attempt to see. “Yuuri, he’s here! Come see!” she beckoned, gesturing wildly with her arms, without ever taking her eyes off of what, or rather who, got her attention.

And Yuuri, who couldn’t say no to her, took the last few shaky steps towards her and poked his head in next to hers to discover what had gotten his friend so excited.

He jolted backwards at the sight of a human- an actual, living, breathing human- playing idly on the grass with what could have been a puppy, though from the distance looked more like a giant ball of brown fluff. Not much could be seen from such a distance, but sweet laughter, pitched and happy like the chirping of the birds in the early hours of the morning reached his ears, lured him in. They were outside the city walls. Forbidden for them, just as straying away from the forest was for the young fairies.

Leaning forward with a deep breath, the upper half of his body was already out of the protective shade of the trees. Eyes widened as silver caught the bright sunlight and shined under it, like something precious, and like most things silver, something forbidden.

Yuuri took a step forward. “Y-You… you don’t think we could go a little closer…? I-I mean! We _shouldn’t_!” All the protests he tried to add could not take away from the longing tied with his question.

Yuuko chuckled at his dilemma. “We _could_. He won’t see you.” At his slight shake of the head, she elaborated, “Humans can’t see us, unless they’re gifted or we consciously want them to, Yuuri! We were taught that, remember?” She turned her head towards their shared person of interest, the beginnings of a crooked smile on her face. “So we could take a closer look…”

Hand in hand, the two of them tiptoed all the way over to the other side of the clearing. The sun in his face made him squint, though he adored the way it would warm him, each ray a gentle brush against his skin. As they approached, they could see the owner of that brilliant silver colour, a endearing intricacy that made Yuuri wonder. He wanted to touch the shining strands, if only for a moment, wanted to see if it would feel the way raw silk thread slipped through his fingertips, or if it would burn like metal, a grim reminder of the wrong he was committing. He looked at the man- no, the boy- lying on the grass, head pillowed on his sleeping dog’s back, now beginning to doze off himself. His hair fell around him, spread out like a fan, and Yuuri searched his mind for the kind of flower that would stand out more against the unique colour.

Who was he? Why was he out here in the first place- didn’t he know it was forbidden?

Yuuko tugged on his hand. “Yuuri, we should go… Let him sleep.”

“You should he couldn’t see us,” he protested and took another step towards the human, leaning over him, his body in an almost ninety degree angle to look at him. The young face that greeted him, so peaceful in his sleep, made his heart beat faster than his own recklessness did.

“No, but he could probably hear us…”

“ _What_?!” Yuuri squealed before he could stop himself, a shrill sound that rung painful even to his own ears. He barely had enough time to fall backwards, before the human jumped up, looking around in alarm. The puppy he had with him got up as well, jumping around and circling not just him, but the three of them. He could have sworn the puppy’s gaze lingered long enough on him to make him understand how visible he was.

Yuuko placed a hand over his mouth and pulled him against her chest. Neither of them moved for a while. For as long as it took the human to abandon his search for the source of that odd sound and beckon his dog to go back inside. So he did belong inside of those walls after all. The two fairies then ran back into the forest, the blood still rushing to their ears.

“Maybe…” whispered Yuuko on their way back home. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell anyone this happened.” Yuuri however, remained quiet for the longest time. “Yuuri? Y _uuri_? Your Highness?” She added at the end, for he hated that title enough to drag him out of his own head many times.

She almost wished she hadn’t.

“Will you… help me find out who that was?”

 

* * *

 

Years later, around the time the human prince’s seventeenth birthday was approaching, a certain arrival would change the life of court for good. A member of Royalty himself, a prince of the Summer Court. Yet with two brothers and three sisters, his chances of ruling were second to none. He didn’t mind it in the slightest; it gave the young prince freedom others of his status could only dream of having. The way he chose to spend it in the Spring Court with Yuuri would forever baffle the latter, though the warm feeling in his chest at his presence would overpower that confusion. Phichit was a whirlwind unexpected. And one of the best things that could have happened to him.

It didn’t take long for them to confide in each other, either. Phichit covered for Yuuri when during one of his adventures to the wall he could not account for his presence and Yuuri made sure to return the favour when his new friend may have emptied the last of the rose jam the royal cooks needed for the Queen’s favourite dessert.

So when Phichit asked what exactly he had covered for, the prince didn’t have the heart to refuse him. And Yuuri spoke of silver hair adorned with blossoms, of bright aquamarine eyes that hid a sea he had never seen yet felt familiar all the same, of a big heart shaped smile and a laugh as beautiful to match. Awe and fondness filled his voice, softening the edges, and despite the shyness keeping him quiet, the emotion behind it could not be mistaken.

When he looked up again, Phichit’s dark eyes were filled with stars, but the smirk on his face spelt mischief. Yuuri thought the pressure on his chest at the sight was fear, yet if he truly took a moment to notice, he’d realise the excitement lurking behind it. If anyone could convince him to take the  leap, it would be Phichit. Who had no sense of shame to begin with and enough charm to drag anyone into his way of seeing the world.

“Wait, so he’s seen you?”

“Just once,” Yuuri nodded. “By accident. He’s…” his voice lowered into a whisper, lips quivering into a scowl. “He’s probably forgotten about me, huh?”

“Nonsense. I bet he’s waiting for you to show up!” Phichit brought a hand to his chin, rubbing at the stubble he didn’t have. “If you want to be sure he didn’t forget, though… How about a more permanent reminder?”

“P-Permanent?”

“When’s his birthday?”

All things considered, it was a reasonable plan and Yuuri worked very hard to find a stone to match the elegance of his eyes, polish it. They had the stone blessed with protection, for he wished for his gift to be useful, he wished for himself to be able to help his prince even a little. He wove the rope from tree bark all by himself, surprising the crafters, who were however, eager to teach the excited young prince.

There was only one issue with their plan. Prince Viktor’s birthday was in December.

And Spring Fairies could not be out in the snow.

 

* * *

 

Which was how they got here.

With Phichit keeping a hand tight over his mouth, halting the laughter that threatened to spill through trembling lips parted in a grin and Yuuri hoping with all his heart that he would be as invisible to his people that night as he were to humans.

“I told you,” Phichit choked out, a chuckle or two escaping alongside the words. “ _Layers_.”

“This was unnecessarily evil of you, Phichit.”

The great second prince of his kingdom, in all his royal glory, was standing there, hands slightly parted to the side, for they couldn’t fit close to his body. An abundance of clothes covered every visible surface but his eyes, which peeked between two scarfs and a beanie. The attire also included two shirts, one jacket and a coat so puffy he looked like a walking ball of fabric. But gods, was he warm. Almost suffocatingly so. And ridiculous though he may have looked, there was little doubt he could survive out in the cold dressed like that. As long as the snow refused to fall, Yuuri would withstand a bit of cold, if he could deliver the gift he had devoted so much of his time perfecting.

“Go on, then~” Phichit chirped, the pat on Yuuri’s back bringing an odd _thump_ from the wall of clothes on him. “Go get your prince!”

“Phi _chit!_ ”

 

* * *

 

With a plan as preposterous as that, it shouldn’t have been so surprising when it went terribly wrong. In all the ways he had imagined this plan backfiring however, this wasn’t an outcome he had expected.

He was grateful for his general invisibility to humans as he made his way through town, for not only was his agility limited in this clothing, a walking ball of fluff like he was would be hard not to notice otherwise. He made it to the castle relatively unscathed (save for that one time when he tripped and took an exorbitant amount of time pushing himself up, as the little sphere he had made himself into, made it hard to move his arms). The gates were held wide open for the guests to the prince’s party, and slipping by guards oblivious to his existence was easy enough.

He had to pause once he made it inside, when the enchanting sound of strings reached his ears. He followed it to the main hall, where the music was loud enough to block anything else, a melody waking up the piece of his soul which longed to dance. Yuuri walked to the edge of the grand staircase; if he descended he could join the dance floor. But no one could see him, unless Yuuri wished for them to. And he wasn’t dressed for a ball, nor would he have the courage to walk up to his prince, ask him if they could perfect this melody together.

He didn’t let himself linger for long. He wouldn’t even allow himself to search for the prince, uncertain of his ability to stand by and watch the human dance with someone else, then walk away with his frail heart intact. At least for this one night, with his gift in hand, he wished to believe, however foolish such a wish may be, that maybe one day he could meet him. One day they could stand side by side like the two of them could ever belong in the same place together.

Yuuri found his room after a few false tries, scaring a few people along the way, enough to wonder if myths of hauntings would emerge. Then again, _found_ was not the right word. But there wasn’t one perfect enough to describe the process of being discovered by the prince’s puppy, who was all too eager to bite the sleeve of his coat and lead him back to the right room.

He marvelled at the size of the prince’s chambers. His own quarters back home were more humble, in their earthly tones, built around a tree whose trunk remained to decorate the middle of the room. Nothing like the white, polished marble, the light coloured furniture, a cold palette fit for a prince of the ice, yet somehow befitting of the summer ocean in his eyes. He let himself wander around for a moment, taking the sight in. His own silhouette greeted him from the vanity, causing him to jump. It was something to keep in mind. Apart from animals, mirrors could somehow see him too. One glimpse of his puffy self was all it took to convince him he needed to leave his gift and return home as soon as he could.

With careful movements, or as careful as they could be in his limited agility, he placed the homemade wooden box on top of the prince’s pillow. For a moment he paused, admiring the handiwork on it, a slight tint to his cheeks at the thought of the receiver’s reaction. A voice in the back of his mind whispered words that burned, yet he decided he owed it to himself- this one attempt. If Prince Viktor didn’t enjoy his gift, then… then he could stop. But he owed it to himself to try.

And then the door opened.

Yuuri and all his princely glory dropped to the floor in an instant, out of range from any reflective surfaces. As Viktor stopped in the doorway, no doubt having seen the unexpected gift, he crawled under the bed, surprised at himself for fitting with all these clothes on him. How the human didn’t see the fabric of the bedding move baffled him for half a second, before the frame shook with a mighty jolt and Yuuri realised the young royalty was otherwise engaged, jumping _o_ n the bed to notice any odd movement.

The puppy seemed to enjoy Yuuri’s predicament, so she joined him under the bed, panting with excitement. The thick bedding surrounding them swallowed a great part of the sound, yet in the quietness of the room, Viktor’s soft intake of breath could still be heard, sending the fairy’s heart fluttering in his chest. He felt him get out of bed, and though his footsteps weren’t heard, the heartfelt _thank you_ released in the wind for his sake, rang true to his ears. His chest swelled, pride and joy mixing in an ecstatic whirlwind. Chuckles spilt from his lips, releasing his joy before it swallowed him whole.

The puppy, overjoyed at his happiness, gave him one slobbering kiss for a mission successful.

 

* * *

 

That winter went by in haze, a blur of buzzing energy that refused to wane, as Yuuri awaited for spring to come and grant him the freedom he needed to roam outside once more. Phichit kept him great company and they would spend their nights giggling until the early hours of the morning. Or they had, the first few weeks, before exhaustion settled in and they were forced to change their schedule, for they still had duties to fulfil.

And time passed as it always would, neither stopping nor speeding for anyone. As the last waves of winter gave their way to the first blossoms of spring, the fairies were freed once more. And the two princes were quick to run to enjoy the warm rays of the sun on their skins, the first of the year. Once they were done with their duties ( “No, Phichit, we can’t leave just _yet_!”), the excuses were quick on their lips and they ran all the way out to the edge of the forest, to Yuuri’s favourite clearing, where the prince’s favourite human…

“He’s not here…” he breathed, all the excitement vanishing with his exhale. The fairy’s shoulders sagged, curled slightly in on himself, like a flower withering, held too close to the cold. And watching the empty field in front of him, it didn’t feel like spring at all. “I don’t understand,” he muttered, staring up ahead without blinking. “He’s always here at this time. _Always_ , Phichit. He hasn’t missed a day since he…” Since he saw me.

Phichit frowned for a moment, yet he was quick to throw on a smile if it would calm his friend’s racing heart, a heart that beat loud enough to threaten to break. “Okay, okay, let’s think about this for a second. He could be _busy_ … I mean, he is a prince. Never mind how we’re not the best examples of that particular job.”

It brought a wet chuckle out of him and a triumphant smile failed to be suppressed from Phichit.

“He couldn’t have forgotten… could he?” came a quiet, hesitant whimper, no louder than a soft breath, yet holding all the fear and rejection the aching fairy felt at the moment. “Humans forget so easily…”

“Hey, now.” Phichit threw an arm around his shoulders, pulled him close into a sort of half hug. “He still has that necklace, right? How could he forget?”

“He could forget how he got it… Or maybe he doesn’t have it to begin with.”

“ _Yuuri…_ ”

“It’s plausible.”

Phichit paused, a small scowl marring his young features. “Fine, then. Let’s go find out. Let’s see where that prince of yours is and where he keeps his necklace.”

“P-Phichit!”

“Come on, they can’t _see_ us and even if they do, your one true love has seen you before, remember? What’s the worst thing that can happen?”

Phichit’s intentions were pure in nature, if not born of a hint of personal curiosity to the matter. However, while not the worst thing, what did happen was ultimately awful in its own weight. What they found was a prince studying, but that wasn’t the part that hurt. What they found, or rather what they didn’t, was a necklace unworn, missing from every corner of the room, as if it had never been there in the first place.

It was said, that the year following Prince Viktor’s seventeenth birthday, the flowers took too long to bloom, a sign of his future reign as king.

In the kingdom of the fairies, rumour had it, that their youngest prince’s weeping would make nature itself mourn every night and keep the spring at bay.

 

* * *

 

In ten years, things had changed. Not a lot, but just enough for the people of the present to look back at the ones they once were with a layer of nostalgia, tinted with a hint of sadness. Whether that sadness came from what those memories held, or for what the life they had provided, was for them to try and understand.

Prince Yuuri had grown in his own ways throughout that time. Second in line for the throne and taking his duties with a diligence admirable, yet somehow concerning, because while quiet, the young fairy had never just stood with his head to the ground. As you couldn’t tell a member of the court to be more rowdy however, figuring out what was wrong was a task easier said than done.

Phichit had come and gone and then again and again and it was usually a little bit better when he was around. He always knew just the right thing to say to rile his friend up. It had made the royal family wonder if their youngest was merely lonely and what he needed was company. When they had suggested that he had waved them off and any talks about perhaps arranging a marriage were met only with a flailing panic that rendered the matter unapproachable, until there was a true, undeniable need for it.

And on the night before the first snow, around ten years from the last time Yuuri had stepped close to the wall, his sister approached him in his room, a gentle curiosity in her expression, two warm cups of rose tea in her hands. They sat, huddled together, not on his bed but at the base of the tree still thriving in the middle of the room, the trunk a familiar spot to lean against, cross-legged like they used to when they were children. Not like royalty in line for a kingdom they couldn’t begin to understand how to rule.

Yuuri leaned against his sister, the cup warming his hands, the sweet scent of rose overpowering. He breathed it in, relaxing in the elegant beauty of the aroma. For a moment, they took comfort in each other’s presence, quiet, content in their peace.

“I will deny it if you ever mention it again, but I’m worried about you…” she spoke after a while, nudging him with the shoulder he was resting against.

“What did I do?” Yuuri lifted his head to look up at her, his cheeks tinted red from the steam of his beverage.

Mari paused, thought her answer through in her mind. “All right, let me rephrase that. I’ve been worried about you for some years now.”

“Well, it’s good to know our future Queen is an excellent procrastinator.”

“ _Yuuri,”_ she chided but couldn’t fight the tug of her lips at her brother’s smile. “What changed? Not that either I or our parents were particularly fond of you missing for several hours each time, but… you were excited back then. Even if you did go against our orders.”

Yuuri jolted, scrambling not to spill his tea at the sudden movement. “W-What?!”

She raised one thin eyebrow and somehow that simple expression felt almost threatening to him. “What? Did you really think we didn’t know where you ran off to?” She laughed at the ever growing redness of his face, this time having nothing to do with any external source of heat. “What I’m trying to say, little brother…” Mari pushed herself up, offered a hand to help him do the same. And her voice hid a mischief almost unfitting of her status (or maybe it was exactly what her position needed). “Winter is upon us. This might be your last chance to get out for a while.”

“Get… out?”

She only shrugged instead of replying and on her way out, the door was left open behind her.

 

* * *

 

The cold bit through the fabric of his clothes. Clothes adorned, special, as if this was an occasion to be celebrated. Pitch black silk, white crystals. He didn’t know what had urged him to dress this way. He didn’t even know why he felt so compelled to follow his sister’s advice. Here he was though, walking through the forest, steps quick, determined. The full moon above him was his guide, illuminating the path before him. And soon, the edge of the forest was visible, a field of grass painted in hues of blue and silver in the white light of the night, a small lake shimmering as the surface of the water trembled with the breeze. It wasn’t frozen, not yet. Yuuri wondered if it ever did- he was never outside at the time to see it happen.

At the last tree, when the forest cleared to give way for the field to spread, he paused. No prince would be waiting for him. This was far enough. He leaned against the trunk, raised his head to greet the sky. As he gazed at the enchanting white brightening the darkness looming above, like a glimmer of hope in the middle of it all, he recalled the last time he had been outside on the full moon like this. Ten years ago, on December 25th. It was the riskiest thing he had ever done, for a childish bit of puppy love. At least that was how he allowed himself to remember it now.

As he thought of love, this time he refused to think of the prince. Instead he willed himself to remember those who loved him back. His family, his friends. He stopped to remember a love unconditional, a love pure. Love but not in love. And a song came to mind, the memory of it buried somewhere deep, unreachable. But even though he could not recall where he learnt it from, the melody was easy to remember, the lyrics coming on his lips as if they belonged there.

_“Sic mea vita est temporaria,_

_cupit ardenter caritatem aeternam…”_

He sang, his voice echoing in the peaceful emptiness of the night, growing louder and louder as the words rang true in his heart, filled him with something he hadn’t allowed himself for so long. Because although the love for his family burned bright and strong, there was a different ache in his heart, a wound left untreated for ten long years. Torn open wide, it let his emotion pour with a freedom he was never supposed to allow.

_“Mea vita amabit, caritatis pacem. Hanc felicitatem aeternam esse oro.”_

His song reached to a close and he _breathed;_ the vulnerability he had let overwhelm him was almost cathartic.

“Was that for me?”

Yuuri jumped at the unexpected voice -so, _so_ familiar after such a long time still-. Panicked, uncertain, he hid behind the tree he was once leaning against, wondering when and why he had let his form be visible to the humans as he sung. With trembles shaking his frame, from fear or the cold or maybe both, he shifted so little, just enough to peek from behind the tree, enough to see a figure he hadn’t glanced upon in years.

Viktor looked… different. Gone were the long locks of hair the fairy had once adored, yet the silver fringe shone in the moonlight, granted him a vision ethereal, the human more magical in his eyes than he was.

It was not the his appearance that brought an unfamiliarity to him. It was the way he held himself, straight and proud. Like the king he was meant to be. Nothing like the playful prince he had met.

And if it weren’t for the tiniest undertone of hope lingering in his voice, Yuuri would not have dared to think of them as the same person.

But that hint was there and he would do anything to watch it blossom.

“F-For you, your… Majesty?” The words fell foreign from his lips, spoken in a language he was not accustomed to. He realised his mistake once the prince called him out on the title used. And he asked about the dancing. Yuuri didn’t know humans were also told the same myth. Knowing how much hatred fell upon them, he wondered what sort of tale they could twist it into.

“I-I do dance. Sometimes. But you are mistaken. I did not mean to lure you. I don’t intend to take you away.” Because how could he? Someone like him? How could he promise the prince a world greater than his own? And how could he live with himself, if he failed to deliver?

Viktor’s face fell at the rejection. And feelings a person of his status should not be permitted to entertain, had Yuuri reconsidering.

He was not the fairy chosen for the Rose Dance. He wasn’t even certain they would chose one, for he had never seen it happen. Yet the part of him that had paused once, on a birthday ball, to watch the people dancing, the part of him that longed for a chance to sweep his prince off his feet and feel the music in their bodies until dawn, until morning, until the end of forever, whenever that would be, couldn’t deny Viktor this dance. If only for this night, he could live in the story he had adored for so long.

“E-Even so- Would you… would you like to dance with me?”

His breath left him at Viktor’s glorious smile, stealing from him a reaction at the words.

But maybe he could he see, even without speaking, the way his heart fluttered at the response.


End file.
